


Catalyst For Good

by WhereTomorrowGoes



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereTomorrowGoes/pseuds/WhereTomorrowGoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all of the reasons to change, love is perhaps the most pure, most beautiful, most painful of all.<br/>Bane is devoted to Talia, she is the driving force in his world...until John Blake comes along. When Bane starts to believe he could have more then vengence, how will Talia react to having to share his affection?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The day was dimming, another sun setting in countdown to the end.

After so long underground he planned to see as many of them as he could in the time left.

There was something mysterious and beautiful about the sun. It had fascinated him as a boy, looking up and seeing its brightness flood all around him, framed by the circular stone that defined his world. He would sit and watch as it moved beyond the realm of his viewing, off to brighten other worlds, leaving him in darkness once more.

He felt that darkness now. Gone was the person who had brought a lightness back into his world. Who had stubbornly convinced him of his deservedness for more then the shadows.

It was better this way. A person with so much shining within them did not deserve to be consumed by the vengeful cleansing fire to come.

And as lonely as his coming death would be, he was glad for the peace he had known these last weeks. The memory of it would sustain him, much like in times past the remembrance of sunlight warming his face was taken by him into the darkness, long after the coldness crept in once more.

He stood, stretching his back out slowly, feeling each vertebrate as they lined up. The constant dull pain grounded him, bringing his thoughts back from the sky and smiling dimples.

'Brother'.

A voice behind him called his attention. Turning to face him, he dipped his head in acknowledgement, proud to have such a man consider him thus.

Barsad was ever loyal, ever dependable, a good heart hidden behind a rifle. At this moment though his face was tense, eyes pinched and mouth caught in a grim scowl. A departure from his usual disaffected unhurried expression.

'I have…news.'

A hesitation. It was unlike his brother to draw out conversation unnecessarily. He was a direct man, economical with his words, not given to elaboration or exaggeration - a uselessness to him.

He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head as he waiting for continuance.

Barsad shifted, his eyes darting around taking in their surroundings, and came closer, placing distance between them and outside ears.

'It is about your Robin.'

Bane felt the warmth from the sunlight drain from his skin, as though it never was.

~

_Bane was stoking a small fire when they brought them in. It did little to heat the cavernous room, but the light and the routine were still welcome to him. He refrained from releasing a frustrated sigh at the interruption, and rose from his haunches to see the fuss._

_The hired gun was posturing in front of him, presenting him with a stash of documents and two men, one appearing to be a police officer. He raised his eyebrows, and listened to the reason given for their presence. Nothing but a rambling of excuses, born from panic._

_His eyes flicked over to see Barsad behind them, looking equally as unimpressed. The sniper tilted his head minutely, silently asking if he wanted him to just kill them all now. Bane indicated him to stand down, he would use this opportunity to demonstrate to the others his displeasure at disobedience._

_He stepped forward and grabbed the still stuttering man by the throat, squeezing the air that held pleas for mercy until there was silence._

_The body dropped lifelessly and he turned his attention to the two kneeling men. The police officer was looking up at him in open defiance. He was young, having the face of a boy, and a skinny body that caused his clothes to swap him. Bane starred back down at him, but the man held his gaze, no trace of fear. He admired that._

_Next to him the other one, older, dressed casually, but with the bearing of authority. He was leaning inward towards the other man, his body language indicating protection._

_Bane looked back over to his brother._

_'Kill them.'_

_Suddenly the young policeman moved, flinging a small knife retrieved from his ankle, embedding Barsad in the shoulder. He grunted, but merely lowered his rifle and drew a small handgun with his uninjured arm. In those few seconds of delay the officer pushed his fellow prisoner off the small ledge into the open sewer below._

_Shots rang out across the open cavern, but the swift moving water had carried the body away, dead or alive._

_Bane was annoyed. Before Barsad could shoot the offending man he stepped forward and kicked him in the gut forcefully, watching as he doubled over in pain._

_A glance over to Barsad confirmed that his injury was minimal, the blade having already been removed from the wound, his expression as impassive as ever._

_Turning his attention back to the police officer, he hauled him to his feet by his hair._

_'Who are you?'_

_His eyes were a clear shade of green, captivating and beautiful. The thought came from nowhere._

_The glare of defiance hadn't diminished with pain, it seemed this young man was resilient. Bane was marginally impressed._

_He yanked the tuff of hair tighter, soliciting a further wince of pain._

_'I will ask you once more before I allow my brother to extract revenge for the pain you sought to inflict upon him.'_

_Calmly and in a quiet steady stone, he replied._

_'Fuck you.'_

_Bane nodded, releasing his grip on the officer's head only to shove him backwards into the arms of one of his men._

_'Take him to a room.'_

_As the young man was marched away, he spoke in the same angry yet calm tone._

_'I won’t tell you anything.'_

_'So say all men, at first.'_

_Bane waved him off, having already turned his attention back on the small fire. He shifted through the documents in his hands, stopping to look closely at the badge. Gotham Police Department, Officer Robin John Blake._

~

She looked angry. The usual smile that graced her features on seeing him was gone, replaced by a scowl that reminded him of the haughty persona of Miranda Tate that she wore so well.

'Where is Robin Talia?'

He made no move to cross the room toward her, instead studying her as he had not allowed himself to do since the occupation began. She looked tired, eyes pinched and her face crinkled by frowning lines. She waved him over, impatience written in her gestures.

He was halfway across the room when she started speaking.

'I've heard that your dog has been poking around in matters that do not concern him.'

Before he could speak she held up her hand, cutting him off.

'I want him punished. We are at a critical stage, I will not have him causing unnecessary distractions with his disloyalty.'

'Barsad does as I command. He is loyal.'

'To you! I won’t have it - punish him Bane, or I will.'

Her voice was shrill and loud in the open room, echoing around them like a heavy thing.

Bane narrowed his eyes, ignoring her words he repeated his question.

'Where is Robin?'

She shifted her look away from him for a moment, before staring straight at him and shaking her head slightly, a defiant stance.

'You are questioning me now, my protector?'

Bane brushed off the feelings of guilt that came with that title. He added steel to his voice, forcing a firmness he had never used with her before.

'He is not in the safe location we agreed. Where did you take him?'

Her eyes darted between his own, flicking from one to the other as she considered him in silence. She stepped forward, cupping a hand to his cheek, and stoking her thumb over the tubes of his mask. Bane was thrown to a memory by the gesture.

_Fingers pressed lightly up against the grate of his mask, a mirror mimicry of his own action. They explored, tracing the pattern of metal, running tentatively along the protruding tubing._

_Bane wasn’t aware he had been holding his breath, almost as though he was waiting for something, some vicious action or reaction._

_But when he looked down he saw the other man smile, small and genuine. A flash of his true self shining through. He exhaled, his entire body relaxing with the release of air and tension, and leant into the touch._

Looking down now he saw brown eyes instead of green, and these were shrewd, measuring. He made no effort to move or speak, refusing to be drawn in by her rare show of affection.

She gave a dramatic sigh, and in a quiet sweet voice softly spoke.

'He didn’t love you my friend, my protector. I offered him a chance to join us, to be with you, but he chose Wayne. The impotent Batman over you..'

His hand flew up and gripped her wrist, a light touch, not enough to hurt or even mark. She froze, no longer stroking at him.

Bane growled.

'Talia. Where is he?'

She scowled at him, yanking her hand hard out from his grasp. A wave of fury overrode all trace of the sweetness shown moments before.

'The place where all traitors deserve to be. Rotting away there with Bruce Wayne.'

Bane stopped. Shock, fury, guilt, and fear swarmed him. His fists clenched and unclenched, his breathing deepened, his eyes narrowed further.

He turned and walked away, unable to stand there with her for a moment longer.

She called for him to stop, he ignored her.

'You are mine! BANE!'

She shrieked the words, but he was already gone, his mind consumed with thoughts of Robin in that place.


	2. Chapter 2

 

He stalked out of the room, eyes instantly meeting those of his second-in-command. The tightness there, the concern showing through them told him that Barsad had heard the exchange.

 

A curt nod was all it took and Barsad was following him, his stride taking them quickly back through the myriad of passageways. Peripherally he could see Barsad indicating to his men, and those he selected fell in behind them.

 

Once he reached the side room, men standing guard both inside and out, the doors closed behind, Bane let out some of his fury. He attacked the wall, delivering blow after blow to the unforgiving structure. Flakes of plaster mingled with his blood, the pain nothing but a hollow distraction, not enough to derail his thoughts.

 

His Robin, held in that place where the despicable men of the world are kept to be forgotten. Put there by the only other person he loved.

 

He howled, screaming his despair, thumping the wall one final time.

 

Robin.

 

'Bane.'

 

He must have spoken out loud.

 

He turned to the grim concerned face of his friend, taking in the other men in the room. He had trained with all of them, led them for years, faced exile together, fought together. An hour ago he would not have questioned their loyalty. Then again an hour ago he didn’t know he would be leading a fracture against the League…against Talia.

 

But he had no choice. He couldn’t leave him in that place, even if it meant facing the wrath of the League. Not when it was his fault Robin was caught in this situation.

 

_'Why are you keeping me here?'_

 

_The question was frustrated, petulant, confused._

 

_'I already said I won’t tell you anything.'_

 

_Defiant._

 

_He said nothing._

 

_How was he to say - because you intrigue me, because you are puzzling to me._

 

_Because I wish to understand you._

 

_There was no way to answer, so he remained silent._

 

_Eventually he heard a sigh._

 

_'Well at least pass me a book or something. You might think staring is fun, but I'm bored shitless.'_

 

_He hadn't any books in English though, and received another sigh for the revelation._

 

_When the next patrol went out he told Barsad to find a library, and ignored the small amused smile._

 

No hint of a smile to that face now. Barsad stood in front of him, ready for his next order, waiting only for him to give a word.

 

He flicked his attention over to the men standing behind him, but Barsad anticipated his question.

 

'They are loyal to you.'

 

He took in each one, appraising them.

 

'Above the League?'

 

'On my life, you can trust them.'

 

Barsad answered confidently. 

 

He hadn't missed how each man had stood straighter at his question, never dropping their eye contact from his own.

 

Barsad had vetted them, he would not doubt his judgement. His mission would need them, their skills a valuable necessity.

 

He stepped in closer, intending his query to be private.

 

'And you my friend? This action means exile once more. Should you not wish to join me I shall understand - you had no liking for him.'

 

_Barsad stalked into the room, dropping his rifle onto the table with more force then the usually graceful man was given to use._

 

_He fought a small smile, secreted and known only to him._

 

_'Our prisoner giving you trouble brother?'_

 

_If he were any other man he was certain Barsad would have struck him. As it was he merely flexed his fingers in a parody of a fist, his usually calm demeanour betrayed by the frustration thrumming in him._

 

_'When you allow me to finally kill that boy, it will be a pleasure I do not expect to feel again in this life.'_

 

_At his brother's words the smirk faded from his face._

 

_…allow me to finally kill that boy…_

 

_Barsad then began to report from the latest patrol, and he was distracted in this thoughts._

 

Barsad just narrowed his eyes, staring him down as though he had been terribly offended. He sighed impatiently, as one would do with a simpleton; confused and annoying. 

 

'You are my brother. Where you go, I go.'

 

Bane nodded, and clasped a hand onto his shoulder, squeezing, his gratitude in touch over words. 

 

He inclined his head, summoning in the surrounding audience, ready to outline his plan.

 

'Brothers.'

 

~

 

They separated. With only a few hours to take care of events in Gotham before they would potentially lose all chance, each man paired off to undertake their own tasks. 

 

Stealth and speed.  

 

After sending Barsad to secure their transport, Bane headed to the lower-west side of the city, a poor little neighbourhood next to the river. 

 

He spied a boy a block ahead run off down an alleyway at the sight of him, and he knew he was in the right place. 

 

Foolish of them not to change locations, to trust their safety to child-lookouts. 

 

Perhaps they were struggling without Robin to guide them.

 

_'You give them much of yourself. Why?'_

 

_He traced the outline of a rib, feeling it protrude through the skin._

 

_Robin hummed at the attention, goosebumps raising the hairs on his body at his touch._

 

_'They're just children, someone's got to help them.'_

 

_He stopped his stroking as the other man sat himself up from his comfortable position, and pushed at him till he was laying on his back, his little bird settling one leg each side of his stomach._

 

_A hand then exploring his chest in return, old scars littered haphazardly._

 

_'What would it have meant for you as a boy, to know someone gave enough of a shit to look out for you, that someone actually thought you could be more then nothing?'_

 

_The question plunged him back into memories of darkness, cold walls, and loneliness. Learning that hunger would not abate without violence, and friendships were not made without trade._

 

_He pushed the thoughts away, bringing his hand up to fit in the curve of the cheek hovering above him._

 

_'It would have meant as much to that boy as this moment means to this man.'_

 

_'Bane.. .’_

 

_Robin's eyes darted between his own, forehead crinkling with small lines, his lips disappearing between his teeth, reappearing red and shiny, his head leaning slightly into the supporting hand._

 

_The weight of his body was not enough to hold him down, but green eyes pinned him effortlessly._

 

They were clearly trying to be quiet, but his ears made out their movements, the hushed whispers and panicked breathing. 

 

The room was large, and filled with scattered belongings, toys and blankets discarded in the haste to hide.

 

As he walked over a creaking floorboard the sound of thundering heartbeats reached him. He threw back the flimsy rug and pulled up a plank of floor, feeling the nails give way against the force applied.

 

Blinking back up at him were dozens of pairs of little eyes belonging to children, huddled together. A collective mass of fear.

 

'Get back!'

 

A shout, shaken voice belonging to a shaking hand cocking a pistol.

 

A priest standing in an open doorway a few feet away. 

 

He had no sympathy as others had for men of the cloth. No habit or uniform he had ever seen extinguished the cruel nature of man. 

 

So it was not his religion, but his actions in defending the innocent that would spare the Father. 

 

Within moments he had the gun in his hand, the priest lying on the floor cradling his arm. 

 

Inspecting the weapon, he was disappointed. Poorly cared for, old, and only 4 bullets. This would not protect them against a wandering looter, let alone the League.

 

'Did Detective Blake not tell you to leave this place?'

 

The man was panting, his eyes focused on the gun in front of him, but he managed to nod.

 

'Then why have you not done so?'

 

The priest had still not found his voice from fear, but Bane's patience was rapidly diminishing. He had no time for this.

 

'The east tunnel will be clear for the next hour. Be through it within that time.'

 

He dropped the pistol down and left the room. 

 

In the hallway the boy look-out from earlier was silhouette in the front door, blocking the way. He kept walking forward, expecting the child to move in fear. He was surprised.

 

'John. Did…did you kill him?'

 

Bane considered the boy, thin gangling limbs of youth, nervous fidgeting, voice afraid, but more of his answer then his presence. Brave child. 

 

He wondered if Robin knew the kind of loyalty he inspired. 

 

'No.'

 

The boy offered him an awkward smile and moved aside, clearing the door. 

 

'What I did was much worse.'

 

He passed him, stepping outside to the waiting vehicle.

 

~

 

Barsad was standing at the entrance to the tunnel. A clear path formed on the right, enough debris shifted to allow a single line convoy to pass through.

 

A truck filled with men and weaponry was packed and ready, the engine idling.

 

He walked over to his second in command, seeking a status update with nothing more then a tilt of the head, their long years together giving understanding to small gestures.

 

'All is prepared, supplies are carried with us, the plane on standby.'

 

He nodded, eyes raking over the contents of the truck. The stacks of ammunition, guns, and finally the medical supplies.

 

He jerked his head away, impatience gnawing at him again, insistent.

 

A moment later a huge explosion caught his attention. To the west smoke and the sound of metal warping filled the air. A bridge was no more.

 

He raised an eyebrow to Barsad, who smirked as he slipped something back into his pocket.

 

'It will take some time for the military and our old brothers to investigate who was responsible for that.'

 

If the situation had been any different he would have chuckled at his brother's theatricality. Instead he settled for a grim smile, patting Barsad's shoulder as he walked past him to the truck.

 

It was time to go. They had many hours of travel ahead to reach their destination, and Robin had already been there for days...

   



End file.
